Clarion Call
by me malum
Summary: In the end, it's all about power. War is sparked by what America intended to prevent it with.


I blame Shinedown- particularly the bit quoted at the top, it can be skipped if you don't want to read it- and my weird dreams. Song is 'The Sound Of Madness', which apparently makes me think of the apocalypse.

**Disclaimer**: Yeah, I _wish_.

No personal opinions are used in this story. I used the countries as I thought fit their personalities, not as I thought they act in _reality_. I loosely set it around 2050- I wanted it slightly in the future, when natural resources are beginning to run out.

I hope 'tis enjoyed.

**Edited**12/5/12- cosmetics mostly.

* * *

_You need a shotgun blast_

_A kick in the ass_

_So paranoid_

_Watch your back_

_Hold on here we go_

_Another loose cannon gone bipolar_

_Slipped down couldn't get much lower_

_Quicksand's got no sense of humour_

_I'm still laughing like hell_

_You think that by crying to me_

_Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe_

_You've been affected by a social disease_

_Well then take your medicine_

_I created the sound of madness_

_Wrote the book on pain_

_Somehow I'm still here to explain_

_That the darkest hour never comes in the night_

_You can sleep with a gun_

_When you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?_

* * *

America stared down the rest of the nations sitting around the table. _All_ of the nations, for the first time in history gathered in one room. "I realise this is totally unusual. And I don't like this anymore than you do, guys," he said, all placatory. "But it's my boss's rule. You gotta see I can't go against this."

France scoffed. "Like you'd want to, even given the choice." He didn't sound surprised at the closing statement; he was confirming something he and the other nations had known for a long time.

If America had grown up even one century earlier, would this still be an issue? If he'd made his way in the days of conquest and bloodshed, even for a mere one hundred years- could it have prevented this subconscious desire to conquer now?

If only empires were still a matter of power and authority, rather than resources and economies.

The younger nation looked surprised at this angle of attack on his presentation. "But- France! This won't even affect you! Why are you protesting?"

"Won't affect me?" France repeated, smiles all around. "Are you truly that blind, or just that bad at lying?" He stared down the nations staring at _him_ now, one by one, and those who remembered that far back saw the icy sheen of _Gaul_ taking over his eyes. Looking back at the only nation standing, he added "This will change everything, _L'Amerique_. It will affect all of us, even the blessedly elevated four you favour." He laughed suddenly. "Isn't that why you called _all_ of us to this meeting?"

America backpedalled hastily. "Well, yeah, alright. It _is_ a global issue, after all. Maybe the most serious we've ever faced."

France nodded amiably. "_Mais oui_! And the hero has the solution for us?"

The 'hero' grinned in relief, thinking they were beginning to understand. "Yeah! Me and my boss were up working all night on this."

"_You and_ your boss?" Germany blinked, disbelieving. It had been solely his _boss's_ idea not five minutes ago. "You really are that bad of a liar."

"Wha- oh. Yeah, I helped him on a few things. Mostly to make it better for you guys."

"It was worse than this?" Switzerland was tracing a suspicious lump at his side with his fingers. "What was worse than us giving up our independent armaments and relying wholly on you for protection?" His fingers twitched, as though he wished to draw the gun then and there and shoot the other country where he stood.

"Switzerland!" America shouted reproachfully. "It's not like that at all. But three world leaders are already dead and something drastic has to be done!"

"Then why not let the leaderless countries speak?" Switzerland countered. "As the most involved, I'm sure they have a few ideas."

Eyes flew up and down the tables to find the aforementioned countries. Iran, whose Supreme Leader and President both had been murdered in one hit three weeks ago, flushed and looked at her seat. "N- no comment," she stuttered, unused to the English and the inclusion at world meetings. _Besides_, one part of her mind whispered, _it's not like you don't know who did it, and why_.

Multiple personality disorder was an unfortunate, common side-effect that civil wars had on their countries.

South Africa opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. _His_ president dying in and of itself hadn't been a shock- but the lack of time they'd had to finalise his affairs, public and personal, had been. With all of the focus on advancing warfare, medicine was a field sadly neglected by science, and many diseases were still fatal. He coughed past the lump in his throat, and tried again. "I will hear what America has to say," he announced, not for entirely honest reasons. His eyes caught and held Nigeria's, Ethiopia's, countless fellow nations' who he had the bond of brotherhood with. Individually, they had suffered and been subjected. Together, they were _Africa_, and with or without support from their former masters, _they _needed to realise they could stand without falling down again.

Their eyes all held the slight note of worry he himself felt. America had been the lucky one- the loved one who got away, literally and figuratively, with murder. He just didn't _realise _it, the fool.

They had to hear him out, if only to get a grasp on how bad this could get.

All eyes turned to the third leaderless nation. The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland had been assassinated only last night- but the core of the royal family had been killed five days before that. No one had seen or heard from England until he'd turned up at the meeting today.

Bright green eyes fell to half mast, ignoring the lot of them, and the nation half-smirked before gesturing back at America.

After a tense twenty seconds of silence, the second half of the 'special relationship' got the hint and started talking again, shooting furtive glances at his former mentor, wondering why he'd been silent.

"So, you can see it too, right? If we all agreed to one universal defence system, there could be no more wars between our countries! Civil wars will be that much rarer and easily crushed, because the government will have the support of the whole world behind them! Technology could begin focussing on how to heal again, rather than on weapons to outdo our neighbours!"

"The whole world... a part of one... system..." Russia murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

"Holy shit, he's gone communist!" Was the louder exclamation from Prussia. Germany slapped him upside the head and the albino nation subsided.

"I have _not_! You take that back!" America shouted down the table at them.

"My brother apologises, America," Germany stated, saying the phrase on autopilot.

"It's _not _communism! Seriously! We're all our own nations, we have our same trade agreements and border agreements like we do now! The only difference would be the international defence grid, which would be there universally for all of ours' protection instead of having more powerful countries overwhelm the weak just because _they've_ got the better weapons!" He was out of breath by the end of this mini-speech, having shouted out most of it.

The stunned listeners were broken out of their reverie by Japan. "I don't believe you, of all countries, have the right to say that, America." The normally gentle nation's teeth were gritted, words being forced out. "Do you forget history so easily? Do you care to see the scars you've still left on me, a century later?"

America closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "That's what I'm trying to stop happening again." He locked gazes with the Asian nation, willing Japan to feel his sincerity. "_No_ _one_ should go through that again."

Japan cocked his head to the side, weighing up America's words. Finally, he nodded. "Very well, then."

"_What_?" China hissed. When Japan turned to his older brother, the ancient appeared torn between glaring at America, and at him. "After Hiroshima and Nagasaki and spending _two years_ in a _coma_ because of him, and then after he's all but destroyed your culture with his influence and commercialism and trying to make you into a mini Asian clone of himself, _you agree with him_?" China spat out a torrent of mandarin that made Japan wince, but he replied in English.

"I _believe_ America is sincere. You might say I _have_ to believe it, for myself and my most fervent wish that no nation ever go through what I did again." There were tears in his eyes as he finished speaking, leaving a slightly awkward atmosphere in the room.

"Japan... I can see why you need to believe this so badly." China felt a tear of his own escape. "You know it was me who sat by your bedside every day you were out of it, praying for your recovery. We would all give much of our power to ensure it never happens again." His voice was impassioned, rising in volume the more he said. "But not like this- can't you see this will end in disaster? I can count on my hands those among us who actually _enjoy_ the fighting we must do, but the way forwards, the way to stop it entirely is _not_ this way!"

"Why not?" America challenged him. "Why is this way _not_ the right way, China?"

"Because it is not equal!" He yelled back, composure long forgotten. "And if they can't see that, more fool them for their support of you!"

"It's a system designed to protect everybody-" America stated, trying to bring the conversation back to the rest of the nations, who were muttering amongst themselves.

"But just _five_ of us are enough to decide if someone's _worth_ protecting? You and your closest friends hold enough wisdom for such important matters? No! This is just another way for you to gain more power, more wealth and more _control_ over those your previous methods have failed to bring into the fold!"

In anger, America threw down the papers he was holding. "That's not it at all! I just want to be able to help people, protect them-"

"Have them dependent on you?" China bit back. "That's just another form of control!"

"I don't have to listen to this!" America stepped back and visibly calmed himself. "That is my plan. I am implementing it. If you are with me, stand and come now and we will talk about it in more detail elsewhere." His gaze became chilly. "If you are against me... I hope your God can protect you, because I certainly won't."

Amid stares and speculation, roughly a third of the nations in the world stood and gathered loosely on his side of the room. China stared forlornly after his adopted brother, but made no effort to call him back. Russia had been one of the first to stand. When some of the Baltics declined to follow him, he only smiled and said, "There will always be a place for you, _dah_? I will welcome you back with open arms when you surrender."

America looked from left to right and nodded decisively. "If that's all then, we're leaving." He strode to the door, leading his newly declared allies. "Come on England, I've got something I want to ask you about."

The green-eyed nation, who'd amazingly been silent to this point, raised an eyebrow and did not move.

"E- England?" America checked himself. "Aren't you coming?"

England glanced around the table, around the remaining nations. Most of Europe was accounted for, along with their once-upon-a-time African colonies. Mexico, Peru, hell, even _Cuba _had shakily stood and gathered behind an unusually serious Spain.

England noticed the dramatic shifts in loyalties; it depended on who their heart was loyal to, rather than the red tape all over modern politics. It was like the old days, when the nations were held in confidence by their rulers and the _rulers_ were the ones who controlled the country.

When all it could take was five cleverly whispered words to create wars of their choosing.

The old days, sunk in madness and bloodshed and betrayal. You could be friends one day and bitter rivals the next.

He locked eyes with France unintentionally, suddenly.

_Gaul_ looked back at him, and he was beautiful. Someone worth fighting against, beside, even _for_.

The insanity was bare millimetres beneath the surface of his eyes.

England allowed the old ways to rise in him, felt it fill _his _face and _his_ eyes with _his _insanity.

And it was beautiful. Oh, how he had _missed_ this.

He looked back at America, and felt nothing when his former colony flinched and recoiled. He stood with his commonwealth and his former colonies that weren't traitorous _bastards_ and felt nothing for the one who perhaps as little as ten years ago, he would have died for.

"You- your _eyes_, England," America whispered. "My God, where did you go?"

France strode around the table and put his hand on England's shoulder. England let him; leant back into it, even. France was _old_. He was there when Rome fell; one of the oldest Western nations still around, perhaps.

He understood.

The small motion was not lost on America. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and blinked heavily. "I- I don't understand. I thought-"

"It's no longer a matter of politics, America." England finally spoke, cutting across the now child-like voice of the superpower. "Even you are old enough to remember Churchill, I suppose. But think on that. _Churchill_. Not England. Not Britain. Perhaps a lack of conflicts between us lulled you into a false sense of security. Perhaps you just don't understand, perhaps you're too young to _ever _understand." He sighed deeply, and the last ties between them withered and broke. America winced; _ah_, so he had felt that too. "You were born on the cusp of a new world, and now you try to control it in the old manner. You try to control the oldest of us in ways we once were masters of."

France took over the speech for him; America's gaze flew between them both. "You will never understand. I look at you and see naiveté, _naiveté _from the country that created the first true weapon of mass destruction."

"You have never known true battle," Spain cut in. "_We _would join our kings and generals out on the field and laugh and cry and share battle wounds with them. You have never fought against one of _us_ one day, only to embrace them the next. You have never fought _for_ one of us, not truly. You've never fought for anyone but yourself."

"But-"

America tried to speak up. Prussia cut in this time, the red in his eyes swirling. "You fought England, musket to musket. For _your _freedom. Yes, we know. We've only heard about it enough times from both of you." He grinned nastily. "You never could set foot on another battlefield, could you? And look back, tell me: did you win, or did he lose?"

England smirked at America, and it matched the rest of his expression: slightly eerie, nearly forgotten and unaccountably _wrong_. "I have no master, America. My royalty is gone and my government is in disarray. Do you _know _how long it's been since I've been my own master?" He closed his eyes against the feeling; it was almost orgasmic. It was _madness_. "I have my own loyalties; I am able to follow my _heart_, America, rather than my boss. It's a shame it turned out like this. I may have loved you once, you know." He said this softly, almost wistfully, and something in America's heart clenched.

"You're not coming, are you? You were never planning to." His voice broke as he finished the last sentence.

They shared a bittersweet smile; one understanding it was their last, and the other hoping it was not so. "This is it, America." England replied, _so_ softly, that the rest of the nations struggled to hear it. "And so World War Three begins."

The Empire remaining in him smiled, and it was beautiful.


End file.
